


Next Contestant

by Redqueenswrath



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, M/M, Mild Blood, Possessive Dean, Rope Bondage, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 10:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10358904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redqueenswrath/pseuds/Redqueenswrath
Summary: During some downtime between cases, the boys pick up jobs at a bar and Dean gets all sorts of possessive





	

**Author's Note:**

> Despite this having a song for a title, this is NOT a part of my Songs Verse! I just got a wild hair up my ass and decided to write kinky Wincest

Every once in a blue moon, the Winchesters got some down time. Not just a few days between cases, but a week or more all at once. When their cash ran low, they'd settle down in some random town, pay for a room for the week, and pick up under the table jobs. It didn't really matter what the work was as long as it paid. Auto shops, restaurants, and bars could usually use some help and were happy to not have to do extra paperwork to get it.

 

That's how Dean had found himself lurking in a corner of a bar, arms crossed and stance vaguely threatening. Miss McClain, an older woman with bright green eyes and a waist length red ponytail shot through with grey, had been all too happy to hire both brothers for however long they were in town. Sam was behind the bar, pulling beers and pouring shots like he was born for it. The younger brother happily flirted with patrons, male and female alike. He batted those puppy eyes and raked in more cash in tips than either brother would make in actual pay. Dean ground his teeth. 

 

The elder Winchester was what one might call possessive.  _ He  _ was the only one who got to kiss those plush lips.  _ He  _ was the only one who got to wrap those long, long legs around his hips.  _ He _ was the only one who got to hear that voice scream itself hoarse from pleasure. Sam stepped out from behind the bar to collect glasses from the tables. He artfully dodged groping hands as  he went, laughing and flashing those sinful dimples. Dean could feel his blood pressure skyrocketing. He cracked his neck right and left, but remained in place, scanning the crowd for anyone who might need to be tossed out the door. 

 

The elder Winchester’s eyes snapped back over to the younger when he heard Sam’s surprised yelp rise above the general din. Some asshole had Sam crowded against the bar and had a handful of the giant’s muscled rear. Dean saw red.

 

“Son of a bitch.” He muttered as he stalked closer, decades of training letting him sneak right up on the handsy jerk before his presence was noticed. By that time, it was way too late.

 

“This is your only chance, bud. Walk out that door now, or I'll make sure you leave here limping.” Dean snarled in the man’s ear. The perv seemed like he was gearing up for a retort when he spun around to face the man gripping his shoulder, but whatever he had planned on saying died in his throat when he glimpsed the barely restrained rage in Dean’s eyes. His face went ashen.

 

“Sure thing. I was on my way out. I'm gone, man!” Pervy McGropy beat a hasty retreat. Dean instantly turned his attention back to Sam, giving him a once over to make sure he was unharmed.

 

“Thanks for the save, De.” Sam murmured. Dean brushed the other man’s ridiculously long hair back from his eyes. 

 

“Don't worry about it, Sammy. You ok?” Sam nodded firmly. “Then get back to work, baby boy.” Dean sent him off with a light pop on the ass. Sam chuckled, his hazel eyes going dark. Dean resumed his post in the corner.

 

Not ten minutes later, Sam had another ‘admirer’. Dean rolled his eyes.  _ “Here comes the next contestant.”  _ He thought as he eyed the situation. To his utter shock, Sam flashed the guy a teasing smile and brushed his fingers against his wrist as he passed a fresh beer across the bar. What the hell? Dean cracked his knuckles as he kept watching. Sam was flirting shamelessly, leaning his elbows against the bar and resting his chin on his hands as he whispered something to the other. The patron laughed and reached out to cup Sam’s cheek. Sam allowed the contact for a moment before leaning back. Then, to Dean’s surprise, he looked directly at his older brother and  _ winked.  _

 

“ _ The little shit is doing that on  _ purpose.” Dean realized with a jolt as he stomped over to bounce the guy out the door. He got a good look at his little brother as he hauled the groper out into the parking lot, and there was no mistaking the glint in Sam’s eyes, nor the hitch in his breathing. When Dean marched back in sans the uninvited bar patron, he nearly fell over at the sight before him. Sam was reaching up over the bar for a fresh rack of glasses, and those obscenely tight pants were doing jack shit to hide the outline of his cock. His achingly hard cock.

 

“ _ Holy shit. The brat is getting off on me being all Alpha-male possessive.”  _ Dean thought. He glanced down at his watch. The bar closed in forty five minutes and the crowd was already dispersing. A plan quickly coalesced in his mind as he sidled up to the owner.

 

“Miss McClain, I don't think Sammy’s feeling very well. Would it be alright if I took him home?” Dean turned the charm up to eleven and held his breath. The older woman glanced over at Sam.

 

“He  _ does _ look rather flushed. You should take him home and get him into bed immediately.” The matronly woman gave him a wink and dirty grin before taking Sam’s place at the bar. Dean stared after her in shock, mentally updating his list of things to be scared of.  _ Number 4831- little old Irish grandmothers.  _ The five foot tall imp of a woman pulls Sam down by his ear so she can talk to him. Whatever she says causes the young man to flush a lovely shade of crimson before she too smacks his ass and saunters off, cackling.  

 

Face still burning, Sam takes off his apron and stuffs it under the register and makes a beeline for Dean. He still wouldn't quite meet Dean’s eyes. Interesting. Dean quickly slaps on the best stern face he can manage.

 

“Get in the car, Samuel.” Dean growled, his voice whiskey dark and full of an implied threat if he wasn't obeyed. Sam swallowed audibly and nodded as he scampered off. Dean paused long enough to wave goodbye to Miss McClain before he followed.

 

The short ride back to the hotel was so silent that Dean could damned near hear Sam’s thundering pulse. He could certainly see it jumping in the column of other man’s throat. The older brother quickly tamped down on the vicious smirk that twitched at his lips. Let the little shit stew in his terror for a while.

 

Dean whipped his Baby into a parking spot at the very end of the lot and got out, heading for their room without a single word. Sam trailed along at his heels. It only took a few seconds to get the door open, but Dean could feel his little brother trembling faintly beside him. Good. Dean gripped the taller man by the scruff of the neck and tossed him into the room, trusting Sam’s hunter reflexes to keep him from crashing down to the floor. The elder Winchester slammed the door and threw the deadbolt before turning to face Sam. He set his jaw in a hard line and watched with concealed amusement as Sam’s expression went from nervous, straight past aroused, and right to terrified. 

 

“You have been  _ very _ naughty, Samuel.” Dean growled from deep in his chest. Sam shivered and hung his head.

 

“I’m sorry De…”

 

“Let me stop you right there. You’re not sorry. You saw how mad it made me when those assholes copped a feel and you  _ let them do it  _ because you wanted to bait me. You got off on winding me up.” Dean leaned against the door, deliberately mimicking the pose he’d held as a bouncer. “Isn’t that right?” The elder brother’s voice was deceptively mild.

 

Sam turned his Puppy Eyes all the way up and peered at his brother from under his fringe, and Dean chuckled low and dark.

 

“Being all cute and innocent isn’t going to save your hide now.” Sam whined softly in response to the implied threat. 

 

“Strip. Stand in the center of the room, arms behind your back.” Dean’s voice sounded like gravel and Sam scrambled to obey, throwing his clothes haphazardly in the direction of the small table. Dean pulled a worn black duffle bag out from under one of the beds and drew out a long coil of hemp rope. He pulled the rope through his hands, savoring the sensation of the well broken in, soft fibers. They’d tried out several different types before settling on the hemp- some were too slick to hold knots properly, others were itchy and uncomfortable- but the hemp was by far their favorite for play time. Dean found both ends and folded the length in half before tracing it all the way up to the middle. 

 

Approaching Sam, he threw an overhand knot into the rope a little over a foot from the center, creating a loop of rope that he placed around Sam’s neck. The younger man shivered but held very, very still as Dean placed four more overhand knots about eight inches apart with the last one resting against the dark hair above Sam’s cock. Dean huffed an amused chuckle when the flesh in front of him began to harden.

 

“Gettin’ a little ahead of yourself there, Sammy. If you think you’re going to get to cum any time soon, you’re dead wrong.” Sam gave a needy whine as Dean drew the rope to either side of his cock and balls, setting another knot under the heavy sac so that it was drawn up a bit, then between the man’s legs and straight up his crack. He crossed the ropes over Sam’s lower back and brought them around, passing each end through the lowest hole between knots, then back around Sam’s hips. Dean repeated the action over and over, working his way up Sam’s body and pulling the rope tight enough to form a series of diamonds up Sam’s abs and chest. In the middle, he forced Sam’s hands to the opposite elbow, pressing his forearms together, and wrapped the rope around to bind his arms. Finally, he finished off with a quick release knot between Sam’s shoulder blades. They had done this plenty of times before, but he wanted to be able to let Sam out of the diamond harness quickly if necessary.

 

Dean ran his fingers under the ropes, checking the tightness to make sure that Sam didn’t lose blood flow in any important places. Satisfied with his work, he slapped Sam’s ass, earning a yelp.

 

“Comfortable, Sam?” Dean asked, although his sarcastic tone told the younger man that it was a rhetorical question. Regardless, his cock was rising to attention and quickly becoming a bit constricted by the rope surrounding it. Dean snorted.

 

“Fucking masochist. You’re not supposed to  _ enjoy _ this, you’re being punished for being a little shit.” Dean stalked around to Sam’s front and twisted the other man’s left nipple. Sam yipped in pain but leaned into it, regardless. The older man dug through the bag and withdrew a ping pong paddle with several holes drilled through it. He twirled it theatrically, grinning wickedly as Sam’s eyes went wide.

 

“Bend over the bed, Sam.” Dean assisted the movement by gripping Sam’s bound forearms and shoving him forward, pressing his chest into the bed. The position forced him to arch his back to keep from smothering himself in the scratchy comforter, which drew the rope tighter. Sam cringed as the knots tightened around his rapidly filling dick. The harder he got, the more the ropes would tighten around him, effectively cutting off his ability to orgasm.

 

“Sadistic jerk.” The hazel eyed man grumbled, and Dean immediately smacked his bare ass with the paddle. Sam gave a shocked cry, jerking in a failed attempt to escape the flames spreading across his flesh.

 

“What was that, bitch?” Dean asked almost conversationally before giving the other cheek a matching red mark. Sam whimpered but bit back a retort. “That’s what I thought.” Dean swung again, and again, and again, drawing a series of shrieks and moans from the younger Winchester. He wasn’t making Sam count the strikes, just take them as they came. Dean paused for a moment after about fifteen, caressing Sam’s flaming ass with his free hand. The tender touch only served to drive the heat deeper, and Sam groaned low in his chest. 

 

“Color, Sammy?” Dean asked softly as he checked the skin for any sign of real damage. The response was instant an instant hiss of “Green.” Dean chuckled and patted Sam’s left ass cheek firmly, getting a whine, before resuming paddling.

 

“You know something, Sammy? I love the way your skin marks up. It turns so pretty and pink so easily, but if I keep going it turns the most gorgeous shade of red. Fuck, it turns me on so much. And you fucking love it, don’tcha? You love it when I spank your ass red and raw. I bet I could keep going until it fucking bruises, until the skin is beaten so thin that one more smack would make it split and bleed.” Dean paused rambling and spanking alike as Sam shuddered from his toes to his hair, his legs going weak as he moaned wantonly. 

 

“Fucking  _ Christ, _ you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want me to spank you bloody and then fuck you until you cum screaming, don’t you? You’re such a filthy little slut, aren’t you? Such a whore for your big brother.” Dean dropped the paddle and gripped Sam’s ass in both hands, squeezing the bruised flesh roughly. Sam gave a broken sort of sob.

 

“Yes, God yes! Please, Dean!” The taller man started begging, thrusting his ass out even further in blatant invitation. Dean snarled and picked up the paddle. His free hand went to Sam’s ridiculous hair and yanked hard, forcing Sam’s back into a deep bow to avoid losing a handful.

 

Sam howled in pleasure-pain-heat as the blows fell unrelentingly on his tender flesh. Dean watched in fascination as blueblack lines appeared crisscrossing Sam’s rear where the skin was wearing paper thin. “Scream for me, baby boy.” Dean rumbled and swung the paddle. The flesh tore and split and a trickle of blood oozed down Sam’s ass, dribbling into his crack. Sam howled, his voice climbing up and up until it cracked on the high note.

 

Dropping the paddle, Dean snagged a bottle of lube from the bag and coated his fingers. He thrust two fingers unceremoniously into Sam’s hole, still a bit wet and loose from their mid-shift romp in the stockroom of the bar. He spread the slick over Sam’s inner walls before coating his achingly hard cock and slamming home in one sharp thust. The brothers moaned in unison, Sam’s rough and breathless like he had swallowed glass. Dean could feel Sam trembling under him and knew that neither of them would be setting any endurance records. He wrapped his slicked hand around Sam’s thick cock and jacked him in time with his thrusts, adding that twist at the crown that always drove his little brother wild. Right on queue, Sam gave a deep, shuddering moan and released all over Dean’s fingers, soaking the bedspread in thick ropes of cum. Dean followed a couple of thrusts later, fucking Sam through the aftershocks even as his own vision whited out. 

 

When their breathing finally evened out a bit, Dean yanked the end of the rope that held the quick release knot together. He swiftly unraveled the shibari harness and helped his nearly comatose baby brother out of it before happily lapping up the cooling jizz on Sam’s abs. With an amused snort, he traced a few drops all the way up to the younger man’s sternum. Satisfied with his cleaning job, Dean retrieved a jar of lidocaine cream from the depths of his kink bag and gingerly rubbed the soothing substance over Sam’s inflamed ass. Sam gave a low groan in response but refused to move from his face-down position. Dean chuckled. 

 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Sammy.” Sam grumbled something incoherent and buried his nose in Dean’s sparse chest hair. Dean stroked the back of his head and let Sam come down at his own pace. 

 

_ “Fuuuuu-uuuuck.”  _ Sam hissed. Dean smirked against his hair.

 

“That’s what you get for being such a little shit. Maybe sitting on a bruised ass for a few days will remind you just who the fuck you belong to.” The older man growled.

 

“You, De’. I belong to you.” Sam cuddled even closer, tangling their legs together.

  
“You’re damned right, baby boy.”


End file.
